


Friction and Resistance

by GlytheSector



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlytheSector/pseuds/GlytheSector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Different Outlanders deal with the events of Fallen Empire and their companions old and new in some very different ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reassurance

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Knights of the Fallen Empire, Shadow of Revan and the various class stories. The class story characters exist in the same world as each other and are all Outlanders but each chapter focuses on one in particular and the others aren't present.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Je'qi my Republic Trooper and Lana Beniko. Set during Chapter 4 The Gravestone.

It wasn’t the quietest corner of the ship as she could still hear Koth’s music blaring and someone was hammering away at something. But Je’qi liked it that way, the ship was creepy enough as it was and with no signs of life she’d have been unable to get any work done as she’d have been too busy clutching her blaster. Not that she was really having much luck with her work anyway. Her armor still looked a mess and wasn't actually much better.

The blaster was in better condition, despite being dropped in the kriffing swamp after the rancor showed up in a manner way stealthier than anything that big should be capable of. A bit of slime where it shouldn’t be wasn’t the worst outcome a rancor dropping in could have, but it was still more work to do cleaning the thing up. At least it had given her a chance to familiarize herself with it. She didn’t recognize the make or model which probably meant Lana had picked it up locally before the break out. It worked well, but Je’qi still missed her assault cannon.

She didn’t mind the fact that Lana hadn’t brought her an assault cannon. It just wouldn’t have been practical for Lana to lug one along, force powers or not they were bulky things. But not having her preferred weapon was just one more way she was feeling not quite right and she hated that. Hence the whole taking herself off alone to try and do something about the state of her gear plan. Normally there were few things as good for sorting her head out. But if she’d been asked to report on how she felt right then, she’d probably have just held up the battered, dripping state of her armor and said “This right here? That’s how I’m feeling.”

“What a mess.” She muttered to herself. As if in response something seemed to buzz at the tips of her lekku and footsteps echoed into distance. Lana. She could run down the list of suspects and work it out herself by saying not metallic enough for HK or not enough of a military stride for Koth but Je’qi already knew it’d be her. Seemed to be turning into a pattern that.

“Come to check up on me?” She called out. She’d swear there was something off in the echoes and the air aboard the Gravestone but maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe.

“Koth said you’d borrowed a few tools and waved me off in this direction when I asked where you’d gone.” Lana halted as she came into view. “Although he didn’t mention you were going to try and repair your armor right here and now. Is that wise?” She asked, sounding genuinely worried.

“Well the sensors are all up so if we get company it won’t be without warning.” They’d even got a few of them up in the trees, apparently all that leaping about Sith did made for some good climbing skills. “Also no points of entry close enough for anyone to board and reach me faster than I can slap all this back on. I’m not critical to the repairs process and the sooner I get this sorted the sooner I get back to mapping the corridors and clearing vermin. So I figured why not?”

Lana smiled, but it looked a little hollow to Je’qi. “I should have known you’d have thought it through. I’ve gotten too used to Koth’s thinking on his feet approach.”

“Looks like it works for him since he’s still alive after crossing the Eternal Empire. I’d say I can’t believe I miss the simpler days of fighting the Sith Empire… But well, I don’t.” Honestly she’d been impressed by Koth’s story. More so than by his flying at least.

“It certainly does. I’m pleased you’re not as eager as others to ignore the threat they pose in favor of old foes.” Others like Saresh she meant. Je’qi’s blood boiled at the thought of the woman. She’d have hoped after Ziost… But no, apparently expecting someone to learn from their mistakes was too much.

Lana winced. “But we can’t do anything about that now. How are your repairs going?” She nodded towards Je’qi’s abandoned armor.

“Some serious damage to the left arm and shoulder and torso from proximity to an explosion when Marr’s ship went down. Carbon freezing seems to have fried some of the circuits and something’s not right with the seals but I’m not sure if that’s the freezing or the swamp to blame. Took a scraping from the rancor which didn’t make it through to my under-armor but also didn’t do it any favors. Oh and a lower torso burn on the hip from that Knight but it isn’t too bad. Got a patch job done on that at least. Thanks for yanking me back out of that guy’s way.” She looked up from it all at Lana as she thanked her to see an odd look on her face.

“You alright there Lana?” She’d gone even paler than usual and Je’qi could have sworn something flared scarlet in her eyes for a second.

“I’m fine. Fine. I just didn’t realize he’d gotten close enough to touch you. Or that you’d received quite so many other injuries.” Lana paced into the room, past where Je’qi sat on the floor with her mess. “I would have thought I would sense it.” She muttered quietly.

“What?” Je’qi wondered if she’d missed something.

“Nothing. I just meant that if I’d realized you were so injured I would have offered to heal you. I should have offered anyway.” Lana rubbed her forehead in frustration.

“Hey there was a lot going on. This is the first quiet moment we’ve had since…” Not when they’d gone to find water, the others had been there, solemn, afraid and angry as Lana filled them all in on the state of the galaxy. Definitely not Ziost. Valkorion, Vitiate, whatever he was, he’d felt like he was everywhere on that planet. Yavin then. Where they’d talked after facing Revan. Talked about how they couldn’t be together Je’qi reminded herself as she felt her cheeks flush slightly in remembrance. It hadn’t just been words they’d shared there.

Lana shifted. “I know. It still seems rather careless of me, given everything that’s happened. How long it’s taken to get you back.”

Je’qi wanted to ask if that you meant the whole lot of you, the heroes of the Republic and the heroes of the Empire that Arcann had frozen away to keep as trophies. Or if she specifically meant the CO of Havoc Squad, one of the Republic army's best and Spec Force’s finest. Or if she meant Je’qi herself. But her feelings weren’t a priority for the moment. “Which I am grateful for Lana. But don’t push yourself too much, we’re all here now and I’m here now. To help. You don’t have to save the galaxy alone.”

Lana laughed. “I’m not quite arrogant enough to believe myself the sole savior of the galaxy. Contrary to stereotypes about Sith arrogance, I’m sure.”

“Lana…” Je’qi sighed. She knew when to pick her battles. “Besides, I’m an adult, if any of my injuries were going to be a problem I’d have said. Cuts and bruises except for the burn. And I’ve disinfected and got the kolto on that so it should be fine.”

“It will still take time to heal, time I’m not confident we have. I could heal it now.”

The burn itched something awful and was another irritant on the Je’qi’s list of off things but she wasn’t even tempted. “It’ll be fine. You look exhausted right now Lana. I don’t think I’ve seen you stop for breath since you got me out. Don’t strain yourself further for me.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed. “I can certainly handle a little healing. If it’s as minor an injury as you say.”

She’d got her there. “I’ll make you a deal. Take a break for a while. After a bit, I’ll let you check out my burn and I’ll give you a quick scan too. Then we’ll both know the other is okay.”

“I suppose that’s acceptable.” To Je’qi’s surprise she sat down on the floor right next to her. If Lana wanted to spend the break with her though she definitely wouldn’t complain. And the extra body heat was nice on the cold ship. Hopefully they’d get environment systems up soon. “There’s no particular job I need to be doing right now. But it does feel strange to be doing nothing while others work.”

“I know what you mean. Back in the resistance it was all go all the time. Joining the army I had to learn to stand down and let the experts do their jobs more.” It’d only actually been a few days since she’d been back on the Thunderclap with her squad but somehow those days almost felt as far away as her time in the resistance. Scary thought that.

“You miss it, don’t you?”

Je’qi snorted. “You know, with most people I’m real good at hiding what’s bothering me. There’s a big difference between letting the folks under you know you share their concerns and actually showing how scared you are. I’m usually very good at sticking to the first one.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not my superior.” Lana said dryly. “I know that’s not what you meant.” She added. “But I also know what you mean. Leadership can often mean not being able to confide in anyone. I’d hope that you don’t feel that way with me though.”

“I don’t. I mean, I do feel like I can talk with you. But you’re already dealing with a lot Lana.” She could say something else about how being part of a squad sometimes meant you didn’t bring extra trouble you could handle yourself to the person running the show but she knew how that’d go. Lana was very good at dodging any claim she was in charge.

Je’qi expected a denial that Lana was doing any more than anyone else but she just smiled. “Then maybe you’ll indulge me and talk to me about what’s bothering you. For my own peace of mind.”

“Well when you put it like that...” Je’qi cracked her knuckles and leaned back against the wall. “I miss my squad. I’ve fought without them before, on Rishi, Yavin, Ziost… But I knew they were out there and if I needed reinforcements or an extraction nothing would get in their way. Not knowing where they are and if they’re okay is messing with me, I’ve got to admit it.”

“We’ll find them.” Lana promised. “As soon as your rescue became viable I had people start looking.”

“Thanks.” Lana had said as much before but the reassurance helped. “The other thing that’s got me worrying is what’s next. Once the Gravestone’s working you’ve got a plan on where we going, right?”

“I do. Is that what’s bothering you, not knowing the plan?”

“Nah.” Je’qi shook her head and shivered when her lekku brushed Lana’s hair. She really was sitting close. “I know how need to know works and it’s never bothered me before. I trust you and I trust your plans.” Which was sort of the problem here. “And I’ll go with it. But the fact that I know I will sort of bothers me.”

Lana frowned. “How so?”

Je’qi waved at the room around them. “I’m in hostile territory with valuable intel about the enemy. I’m considered KIA by the Republic and by my squad. Other than the Jedi and not counting a certain smuggler I’m the only representative of the Republic here. My first priority should be re-establishing contact with them. But no, I’m staying with you, for whatever you’ve got planned next. Because I trust you.” Je’qi repeated.

The room was quiet except for the rain outside and the distant music. “Do you think that’s the problem? Trusting someone you should see as an enemy?”

“No.” It wasn’t. Lana had proved herself to Je’qi a long time ago. She hadn’t seen her as an enemy for about the same amount of time. Maybe part of her was worried she was putting her feelings over her duty to the Republic. But that wasn’t the main issue. “I guess I’m bothered more that I’m not bothered by it. Sounds silly right?”

“I wouldn’t dismiss it like that. Coming to Wild space to search for you was a risk. In some ways doing so was walking away from the Empire, even though I knew I couldn’t save it by staying. That didn’t make it easier. But in other ways it felt like the most natural thing in the galaxy.”

“Like destiny?” She was mostly joking. A tiny part of her liked Koth’s suggestion but Je’qi doubted the galaxy or the force or whatever drove something like destiny would really be that interested in her.

“Don’t you start.” Lana smirked. “Now let me have a look at you. I need to make sure you’re not pre-destined to get a burn infection.”

“I guess you had a little rest.” Je’qi conceded as she began to open up her under-armour. “Alright, you’re the boss.”

“Don’t start with that either.”


	2. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features my Jedi Consular Massaryl and Senya Tirall. Set during Chapter 7 Lady of Sorrows.

The tram roared towards Breaktown with a speed and surety that defied the signs of squalor and age surrounding it. Yet another contradiction is the strange world Massaryl found herself in. Zakuul seemed full of them. None were quite as appalling to her as the worship of a destructive tyrant as a benevolent architect, but that didn't make them any easier to ignore. Her travelling companion was the source of just the latest.

While the others had scattered throughout the train to avoid drawing attention, she and Senya sat alone in the end carriage, watching each other. The older woman might appear to be sleeping and there was no tension in her that Massaryl could detect with her eyes or the force, but somehow she knew the Knight was aware of her attention and examining her right back.

If a dialogue was to be opened then someone had to make the first move. “You mentioned back on the Gravestone that you'd heard the Jedi Code, but I'm curious. Have you worked directly with a Jedi before?”

Senya's glance was far too quick for one who'd appeared so lost in her thoughts. Differences or not she had control any Jedi would be impressed by, Massaryl included. “Not directly, no. My knowledge of your Order comes from others like Lana.”

That wasn't a surprise. But it did help ease a touch of the anger Massaryl still felt from earlier. The Knight's actions offended her regardless, but she had not known the effect being witness to them would have on Massaryl. That made her frustration at Massaryl's interference in the interrogations more understandable at well. She'd just seen her as an outsider telling her how to do her job. A reaction Massaryl had often seen before, but no matter how many times she faced it she knew the next time defusing such a situation would remain difficult. No being in the galaxy, Jedi included, enjoyed being told they were wrong.

Diplomatically Massaryl's instincts were often to step back and allow the local expert the lead. She'd seen overbearing officials and arrogant Jedi bring pain where they intended aid before because of a refusal to listen to such people. But as a Jedi and as herself there were actions she could not condone. And a being as powerful as Senya using intimidation and torture against those without her gifts defied Massaryl's sense of justice just as surely as inaction against criminals appeared contrary to Senya's own.

It certainly was a tangle. “I ask because I'm aware how my intervening earlier appeared.”

“Like you don't trust me to do my job?” Senya raised an eyebrow. This definitely wasn't going to be easy. Perhaps Massaryl should have waited until Senya was “off the job” to discuss this but if she wanted to avoid a repeat incident when they reached her destination it had to happen now.

“Yes, like that. Which wasn't the case. I realise you are experienced, formidable and competent at your job. Highly driven and very dedicated to the pursuit of justice.”

“I am experienced enough to know that that much flattery means there's something else coming. And I doubt you want a favour.”

Or maybe she'd spent too long on Coruscant dealing with politicians and their egos. She's a direct woman, Massaryl reminded herself, so stick with direct. “You're right.” She acknowledged. “What I wanted to say was that while I do respect your goals I don't hold with your methods.”

“If that's what you wanted to clarify then I'm afraid I'd already worked that much out.” She stretched out in her seat, at ease despite her armour. “When Lana told me about the Jedi I have to say there were things I thought sounded similar to how the Knights understand the galaxy.” Senya smiled faintly. “She did downplay our differences somewhat. Something she should have dealt with before we worked together perhaps.”

Massaryl would not call Lana manipulative exactly. But her habit of being selective with the truth seemed to have grown over the years in a manner that worried Massaryl. Not just because of old lessons about devious Sith, but as an ally and perhaps a friend. It spoke of a woman struggling alone with a great many things and precious few she could truly trust. But Lana was far away for now and she and Senya had more to discuss.

“I suspected as much.” She tried to brush her hair back into her hood with little luck as she pondered how to bridge the cultural gap between them. It was a pity the blasted thing with it's semi-rigid layer was necessary to hide her horns. She loathed wearing hoods and other than her present outfit the little robe presented to her as she was named Jawa friend on Tatooine all those years ago was the only item of clothing in her entire possession that had one. 

Presuming she still owned anything other than what she carried with her. The sudden lump in her throat shamed her, it wasn't very Jedi to get upset about physical possessions but she had so loved her old apartment on Coruscant. She carried the memories of the time she'd spent there and the people she'd spent it with wherever she went, but it was difficult to ignore the sense of loss the thought that it was gone provoked.

“There is no emotion.” She breathed deeply as she muttered the familiar line to herself. Greet the grief, but don't choke on it, clutch it or hold it. Just let it go. It might take a while but so do most wounds take time to heal. “There is peace.” Or “there will be peace” as Master Mera had always finished her favourite comforting words. Massaryl was no longer a child new to the Order who needed someone to interpret the Code for her. But recalling the kindness of the older zabrak and her understanding explanations never failed to help Massaryl on that journey to peace. She might have died before she could see Massaryl earn her tattoos but the woman had been just as much a mentor to her as Master Yuon or Syo.

Massaryl smiled at Senya's concerned look. “My apologies. With everything that's happened I've had little time to meditate or process it all. Don't worry though, I won't allow myself to be distracted like that while we're on a mission.” Honestly she’d been avoiding meditation, which was foolish of her considering how much it always helped ease her mind. But she’d gotten so used to meditating with Nadia that doing so alone would feel very strange. And even if she could manage it alone, then she wouldn’t be able to wander the ships halls afterwards to check in on Felix as he finished up the weapons maintenance he’d make his habit while she meditated. 

“That's good to hear. I'm sorry though, I didn't realise I was bringing up anything which would upset you.” 

“You weren't.” Massaryl reassured her. “It’s just that so much has changed since I woke up, there’s plenty of ways for me to be reminded of it all.”

“You seem to be coping well.” 

“Well enough I suppose.” Massaryl allowed. “But mental discipline at least seems to be something both our Order’s teach and value.” 

“It does seem that way.” Senya sighed. “Alright then, explain what it is about my methods that bother you so much.”

“Jedi value life. All life. Regardless of a person’s age, species, station or actions, we try to see the value in every being in the galaxy and protect it. We don’t always succeed, but it’s what we strive for.”

“That’s not the easiest job in the galaxy.” Senya frowned as she crossed her arms. “So you’re protectors. That’s not so different from the Knights.”

“Guardians, healers, diplomats, teachers… there’s a lot of roles. We try to be whatever the galaxy needs of us. In recent times that often seems to be soldiers, which is difficult to reconcile for a lot of reasons. But I’m getting off-track. My point is that from what I’ve seen the Knights put their, your pursuit of justice over an individual life if they feel it is necessary. The betterment of society over the individual. Do stop me if I’m wrong.” 

Senya looked faintly amused. “Oh I will. But so far you’re on the right track.”

“Good.” Massaryl clasped her hands. “Jedi, at least most Jedi, aren’t willing to do that. I’m not. I don’t believe in a system where the ends justify the means. Where you have to torture and hurt one person to get information to help more.”

“If we lived in a perfect galaxy then you’re right I wouldn’t have to use such measures. But we don’t. Appealing to Reg’s nobler nature would have gotten you nothing, because that’s how much nobility he has.”

“I know the galaxy isn’t perfect.” Massaryl was perfectly aware how naïve people could think she was but it still grated. “But I have to believe there are better ways. Not just for myself and my conscience, but to set an example to others. What does it show the average Zakuulan when someone with your powers and training threatens someone who can’t fight back?”

“I’m not here to set an example, I’m here to do my job. Then Knights exist to serve and enforce, to keep Zakuul running. We’re necessary for the people to get to live as well as they do.” 

“They don’t seem to be living well down here.” Massaryl challenged.

“That’s their choice.” Senya’s voice remained flat, but if they’d been having the discussion “off the job” Massaryl had to wonder if she’d sound angry instead.

“All of them? Do you still believe that?”

Senya ignored her question. “If there was something, someone for the people to look to like you say? To inspire them and guide them? It was Valkorion.”

Massaryl was still trying to decide on a response as the tram ground to a halt. Breaktown felt even more broken and hopeless as the name suggested. She got up to brush her robes clean and began to head for the door when Senya’s hand stopped her. 

“It looks like we can’t agree but I do respect where you’re coming from. I can’t promise to hold back but I will keep what you’ve said in mind.”

“Thank you Senya. I appreciate that.” She just hoped the new balance Senya offered wouldn’t be tested again too soon.


	3. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Sareel my Sith Inquisitor and HK-55. Takes place during Chapter 6 Asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sareel is not the nicest character so she contemplates violence a fair bit and if you don't like food-related stuff I'd steer clear. Just a note.

Screwing her eyes shut and covering her ears was of no use. The force remained insistent in its reminders of her whereabouts no matter what she did. At first she'd thought she could convince herself it was just another short trip to the lower reaches of Nar Shaada, but while Asylum matched the moon for despair ridden refugees it missed the giddy highs, sly deceptions and smug satisfactions that sweetened the festering rot of the place into something intoxicating if not exactly palatable. This place just burned in her mouth.

Almost as much as the pains in her stomach. She barely eaten since her awakening a few days ago and her body and mind were equally confused as to when it had received any real sustenance before that. She hurt. Part of it was anxiety, stupid, primitive fear and she hated it as much as any living foe. 

Despite the whirlwind her life had been since stepping onto Korriban's sands, she'd barely missed a meal in all that time. She'd stolen food at first, intimidating the kitchen slaves with her status as an Acolyte to force them to feed her. It had mostly been a manoeuvre to avoid the staring eyes in the dining hall, but she'd told Nailani it was out of fear Harkun would poison her when the other Zabrak asked. The trick had worked to her delight, as Nailani decided such a death would be a waste and brought her meals to the blade practices she'd decided Sareel needed afterwards. The deception had pleased Sareel at the time, but buying her first real meal on the shuttle to Dromund Kaas with her Apprentice's stipend had been so much more filling.

And now here she was, huddled in a filthy, reeking alley and eyeing an equally disgusting food vendor as she tried to work out how much of the man's greasy looking birds she could buy with the strange currency. Strange, borrowed currency. Even worse. They'd pooled resources once aboard the Gravestone but Sareel had kept little credits in her pockets as a Dark Council member. It wasn't ever really necessary. She wasn't sure when she'd let arrogance replace survival as a priority but Sareel seethed with rage at her past self for allowing such a basic error to occur.

She wished she'd paid more heed too to Talos' words about a balanced education. But while her lessons on reading and history had been frustrating at first they had still been fascinating to her in a way her lessons in numeracy and the less esoteric and more mundane sciences never had. Numbers just made her nauseous. Trying to work out how many bloody Gorak wings she could get was also making her miss Ashara.

Talos' well-meaning delight in turning everything under every sun into a lesson had been grating sometimes and when she wanted someone willing to occasionally shut up and help her with the hard things without pitying looks, her apprentice had always been ready to help.

So she'd always taken Ashara places like shopping. Good teachers but prickly students was what Ashara always joked they were. She'd understood how Sareel hated feeling lost and stupid. Would have understood now if she'd been there. And been willing to give her a shove to go get some damn food and stop lurking. Sareel could almost hear Ashara complain that she was probably frightening the poor vendor. The thought made her smirk as she marched on over with as much confidence as she could muster.

“I want as many roasted Gorak as this can get me and don't even think of cheating me.” She might not be able to shoot lightning to prove her point without causing a commotion and earning a lecture back on the Gravestone but she could still stretch as tall as she could, show the human every one of her teeth and stare at him with blood-coloured eyes. The desired effect was apparently achieved as he bobbed his head and began yanking skewers of the slimy grill to shove in a bag. She reached past him to grab one straight away and practically giggled in glee at the look on his face. It made her wish even harder that Ashara was there to scold her for making the wretch quiver in fear but the taste, smell and texture of hot food in her mouth distracted her from any further melancholy.

“Assessment: the area is clear of potential threats to your person Master. Query: There is still time before we are to meet with the new meatbag, should I conduct another sweep or begin locating the other Masters in the Markets?”

Sareel bit hard into her lip with shock at the droid's sudden reappearance. The blood began to seep out and ruin her mouthful but she resisted the urge to spit it all out. Knowing her luck such an undignified display would summon back her resident ghosts to nag at her about decorum and “being Sith” or something equally ridiculous, with not a word about their months long silence. Actually years long she supposed. And if that happened right then and there, she would feel obliged to obliterate the entire marketplace to even begin expressing a drop of her displeasure at the force, the galaxy and the universe at large in such a hypothetical moment.

As it was, she slowly chewed through her food, swallowed the blood and tried not to blast the machine where it stood. “I thought I told you never to call me that.” She hissed.

“Repeated clarification: My social protocols are only designed to display the highest amount of respect to my Masters, there is no insult intended.”

The droid obviously needed a lesson in threat assessment. “Allow me to clarify then.” Sareel whispered. The vendor all but sprinted to the other end of his stall, frantically piling his arms high with more Gorak. Probably less for the now empty grill and more to try and avoid her fury. He had some sense, but little knowledge of range it seemed. “If you call me that one more time, I will terminate you. The last thought in that metal head of yours will be of all the danger you will be unable to protect any of your bloody “Masters” from because you couldn't reprogram a simple etiquette protocol.”

The droid stared at her for a moment. “Acquiescence: As you wish. Is there a title of address you would find more suitable?”

Sareel laughed. “I would rather you avoid addressing me at all but if you must then call me Darth Nox for that is my title. Should we be in a situation where that is inappropriate then simply call me Lord. Surely a machine as sophisticated as yourself can manage that?”

“Acknowledgement: As you say Lord.”

“So glad you see it my way. I do so hate destruction on an empty stomach.” She grinned at the returning vendor as he handed her the heavy, dripping bag and the presumably depleted chit. “Have a nice day.” She waved him farewell.

The fear rolling off him offered a jolt almost as sharp as the food. Very energizing. “Now HK, I'm going to be over here in this alley stuffing my face, while you go see if you can find every other Outlander in the time it takes me to eat half my body-weight in Gorak. Don't hurry too much.”

If the droid was afraid then it didn't show it, nor could whatever passed for emotion in its circuits sustain her. But it was a little fun to remind herself she was still a being who could inspire terror. No matter how famished she might be she would never be helpless again.


	4. Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Nailani my Sith warrior and Koth Vortena. Set mid-way through Chapter 9 The Alliance.

“Now, I know I have a reputation but believe it or not this is dinner for me, not seconds or a late-night snack.”

Nailani cursed as she awoke to the table rushing up to meet her face and crash into her nose. Or more accurately she realised, to her head slipping out of the hand she’d been resting it in before dozing off.

Koth pulled a face in sympathy as he lowered the tent flap behind himself. “Ouch, sorry I didn’t realise you were sleeping there. Nose alright?”

Nailani wrinkled her nose to check and tested it with her hand. It didn’t feel broken, only bruised at worst. She was just glad she hadn’t slipped back off her seat, a cracked head or chipped horn would have been the last thing she needed. “I think it is okay. Is there any sign of blood?” Dripping blood all over the place would hardly help their infant Alliance’s morale. Although maybe the sight of a Sith with a bloody nose would cheer a few of the former Republic troops up.

“Bit hard to tell in this light…” Koth squinted at her. “Yeah I think you’re good.” He announced before turning to the supply crates.

“Thank you.” Nailani stretched to try and clear the tension in her back. Her body was already out of its usual excellent condition between the lethal injury, rapid healing and the lack of serious exercise everyone with so much of a minute of medical training had enforced on her since landing on Odessen. Sitting up at a table all night probably wasn’t going to make it any better. The actual pain had faded to an ache not long after her awakening on the gravestone but the consequence of that seemed to be an alarming level of exhaustion. Considering the alternative she wasn't going to complain, but it was still frustrating.

“You wanting anything over for yourself?” Koth offered. “I’m going for Republic rations tonight since they don’t quite so much like licking the Gravestone’s floor but I can bring you a Sith pack over if you want a taste of home?”

Nailani grimaced at the image. “Have they actually started to produce Imperial military rations for Zabraks in the past five years? Before everything happened it was being planned along with other non-human supplies, but someone in the Ministry of Logistics kept putting it off.”

“Maybe? I could take a look.”

“No, I was just curious. I ate earlier. If there’s anything cold though I would appreciate it though.”

“Sure.” Koth hummed a tune as he snapped one of the refrigerated crates open and began rustling about. “Gotcha.” He murmured to himself, before sliding a pack across the table and sitting down opposite with his own tray.

“Thanks” She repeated. The cheerful pink cartoon twi’lek on the pack, who appeared to be greatly enjoying the fungus she supposed it held didn’t exactly add to her dignity as she held it to her face. But since the chill eased her aching nose and sore eyes she really didn’t care. Her younger self would have fussed terribly at the idea of being slumped over a table at an odd time of night, in days old clothes, with a ridiculous excuse for an ice pack and company whose primary allegiance was to an enemy of the Empire. But her younger self had held some rather strict ideas about the galaxy. Which wasn’t to say her standards or loyalty to the Empire had slipped in anyway, but she could no longer pretend to herself that her perceptions of many things had changed since those days. The importance of her own dignity for example. It was a pity Vette wasn’t here to laugh and say _took you long enough_. A pity she wasn’t here for a lot of reasons.

“I’m not trying to chase you off but if you’ve eaten then how come you’re still up?” Koth asked between mouthfuls. “Not still working are you? Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve got doctor’s orders to take things easy.”

“Considering the fact that you’ve almost certainly been working on the Gravestone since construction ended this afternoon, hence missing the evening meal, I’d say those are some fairly hypocritical words Koth.” Nailani suspected it wasn’t the first time either. She appreciated his dedication, it had certainly been a pleasant surprise given his carefree demeanour. But she was slightly concerned he was at risk of becoming obsessed with the ship. A risky thing, given how little they truly knew about it.

“True, though like I said, you’re the one who’s meant to be recuperating.” He grinned at her as he dodged the point.

“You did receive some injuries during the attack on Asylum yourself Koth. In addition to all your work on the initial repairs to the Gravestone, everything else that has happened and according to Lana neither of you were exactly “taking it easy” in the weeks prior to our rescue.” She ignored his eye roll at her finger quotes. “So if anyone here should be taking a chance to rest it’s you two. The Major has been making sure Lana actually spends time in bed.”

Her hopes that he’d not notice her awkward phrasing were dashed as he grinned. “Yeah I noticed. It’s a little strange seeing Lana let someone take care of her. Good for her though. She seems happy.”

“They do.” Truthfully she envied them a little. But there was no sense in dwelling, even if that had been precisely what she’d been doing before falling asleep. “So you see my point then? That it doesn’t hurt to listen to the concerns of our colleagues and friends about our well-being?”

“Alright.” Koth threw his hands up in the air as he conceded. “I’ll be at dinner tomorrow prompt as any of your troops. When everyone complains about how much I eat, I’ll tell them to blame you.”

“Excellent.” She smiled as he shook his head and went back to eating. “I have to say I’m surprised none of your crew are with you. They didn’t stay up to help with you to help the repairs?”

“They did, but I sent them off to get some food and sleep after sun-down.” He caught her look. “I’m not going to make them stay up past their bedtime for my paranoia. I know this place is uncharted but if the Fleet finds us again before it’s fully operational again then we’re screwed.”

“We are taking every measure against detection we can, as this place loses much of its value as a base if it’s discovered regardless of how ready for a fight we are. But you have a point, we have been neglecting the Gravestone for work on the base. We could set up a schedule for shifts to repair it and monitor SCORPIO’s work on it in the morning perhaps?” Nailani suggested.

“Now there’s an idea. There’s only so much me and my crew can do to keep an eye on her ourselves.”

Which was a concern. Given the stories Chec had shared about Imperial Intelligence and all those she didn’t, Nailani wasn’t exactly comforted by the fact that the droid had worked with them for a time. Though the more she saw of SCORPIO’s capabilities the more she came to agree that droid seemed inaccurate when it came to her. _Construct_ or _Being_ seemed appropriately enigmatic.

“Would you and your crew prefer to oversee the necessary work then?" She asked. "Or do you think Non-Zakuulans would be of much use? Lana’s spoken of bringing technical experts in once the base is more secure but that’ll not be for a few more days.”

“I’d like to be involved since I’m most familiar with the systems except for the droid and Tora of course but the others can stick with where they’re most helpful. In terms of familiarity with the tech I’d say all your people won’t be starting off much worse than any of us so if you’ve got the spare hands I’ll take them.” He sighed. “Honestly I should have set this all up properly myself. But it’s been just me and my crew or me and Lana for a good long time now.”

“You’ve gotten used to handling things yourselves. Self-sufficiency isn’t the worst habit you could pick up while on the run.”

“Yeah I know.” He rubbed his neck. “I’ll adjust.”

“There’s been a lot of changes for all of us recently. We’ll work it out.” She hoped they would. Starting with the fact that while Koth and Senya struggled to appreciate the history between the Empire and Republic, many of the Alliance’s new recruits knew it all too well. There were some veterans of the Yavin IV truce among them, who had introduced themselves to her with varying shades of pride and apprehension. The former Sergeant Ralo had dragged a number of other survivors from Marr’s fleet up to her and the other Outlanders to make them say hello and thanks. One Jedi had claimed Master Timms as an acquaintance and greeted her in a surprisingly gracious manner. But many of the others had simply stared uneasily as she passed. She’d hoped for better from the Imperial troops but there had been nearly as many odd looks and the awe some of them expressed was almost more unnerving than the Republic suspicion.

The idea that she was a potential candidate to lead them was rather terrifying. She certainly didn’t feel qualified. But she had to admit the idea held some appeal. Her speech to mark the beginning of the construction work had been equal parts awkward and embarrassing and the trend hadn’t entirely vanished in the intervening days when it came to her attempts at leadership. But she was enjoying herself, the work was satisfying and whoever became the actual Commander, Nailani knew she’d continue to feel pride in what they were achieving with the Alliance.

Koth interrupted her thoughts with a cough. “Since you took a load of my mind, maybe I can return the favour. So what is keeping you up this late? Bad dreams?”

Nailani snorted. “Most wouldn’t bother asking a Sith Lord if she was having bad dreams you know. They’d presume that for us bad dreams are the good ones. That we all dream about slaughtering baby Gizka and fledgling Orobirds, about cackling wildly while their blood soaks our faces.” As comforting as she’d found the first sight of an Imperial uniform on their arrival, the slight stench of fear so many produced at the sight of a Sith really wasn’t something she’d missed it seemed.

“I am eating you know.” Koth protested. “And I can’t really imagine you or Lana getting that excited about killing baby animals. Sareel I’m not ruling out but there’s not a lot I’d rule out with her.”

“It is a somewhat exaggerated example, but most stereotypes about Sith tend to be.” She snorted. “Unfortunately such extremes are more common in reality than I’d like them to be. Lana is a somewhat temperate example of our kind, at least most of the time.”

“That’s one way to say she’s great at being ice cold up until she stabs you through the middle…” Koth winced. “Okay that definitely wasn’t the best example.”

Nailani stifled a laugh, the look on his face was almost worth the phantom burning sensation through her gut. “It’s alright. I’m rather used to traumatic injuries at this point so I’m fairly desensitized at their mention. You might be surprised at just how many times I’ve been buried alive.”

“So no jokes about being buried under work then. Right. You didn’t answer my question though.”

“Ah, about dreams.” She flipped the lid on the chilled crate and tossed the food pack back with the force in order to get the increasingly soggy pack out of her way, not to continue to avoid the question. But when the table was clear except for Koth’s now empty tray and her datapad she found she still didn’t have an answer. The sight of the datapad sent up a swell of emotion sharp enough that she was surprised the answering quake of power through her didn’t flare with its usual bloody light. A good thing if she wanted to convince Koth she was perfectly well as it was hardly subtle, not such a good thing from the perspective of how drained her power still seemed to be after the healing.

“I have had a few.” She admitted. “But that’s hardly unusual. I wouldn’t say they’re keeping me awake.”

Koth drummed the table top with his fingers while looking uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah but are they keeping you from trying?” He looked off into the distance. “I’ve had bad ones before, had a lot growing up. But the ones about Denon are the worst. Vivid. Even my memories aren’t as clear.”

Such a confession seemed to demand reciprocity. “The ones I hate the most are usually about fighting the people I love.”

“Makes sense. You and your sisters were on different sides of the war before we showed up, right?”

Nailani looked away from his sympathy. She didn’t want to talk about the dreams where Vette called her a monster. The ones where she had hurt Jaesa’s parents and tortured Noman Karr, and her friend was changed beyond recognition as a result. She wouldn’t talk about the Transponder Station. “We were.” She confirmed.

“So you’re not going to be fighting each other any time soon. That’s good isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Her eyes drifted back towards the datapad. If she turned it on the message would still be there. “It is.” She nodded. “Unfortunately my dreams have taken a different turn since the carbonite.”

Koth whistled. “I’d say that’s bad luck but compared to some of the stuff that’s happened to you it doesn’t really measure up there. Still not great. So what are they like now?”

“I’m not fighting anyone, but they still die. In my absence. I don’t get there in time.” Nailani exhaled. “You care for your crew a great deal and they for you. But you parted ways with them for a time to rescue us and I presume other times while on the run from what you’ve said. Didn’t doing so frighten you?”

“Ah. Right. Yeah it scared me a lot. Especially back in the days Senya was on our heels. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said they bled thanks to her. I doubt her hanging around is making it easy for any of them to sleep.” His face darkened for a moment. “But she did save them at Asylum so I’m moving past that. You’re worried about your crew?”

Nailani smiled weakly. “I believe we all are. The others are just dealing with it better. Chec recently managed to reactivate my old holonet address though and the messages I received weren’t exactly comforting.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Koth fiddled with his goggles. “Look, you know your people better than me. But the way I deal with having to be out of contact with my crew? I trust they know how to look out for themselves. And for each other. And to come looking for me if they get into a fight too big for them to handle without me.”

The first one was a comfort. Other than Jaesa and Vette she had little hope of the second and of the latter? That would require them to know she was alive and looking for them. Properly know, not a despairing denial sort of knowing. Nailani was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten at the sudden spike of nausea.

“The last thing to keep in mind.” Koth continued. “Is that sometimes there’s nothing you can do to help them. And sometimes there is. Work out which is the case and either do what you can or drop it because worrying yourself sick definitely won’t help.” He shrugged. “Beyond that you’ve just got to hope for the best. Believe destiny or the force if you’d rather isn’t done with them yet so in the end they’ll be okay.”

She’d sent messages to their old addresses and had endless assurances from Lana that the Alliance’s network was looking for them. Short of dropping everything on Odessen and going to look herself she had explored every possibility for now. And abandoning her responsibilities was not an option. “Thank you Koth. I appreciate you talking with me about this.”

“No problem.” He grinned. “Glad I could help a little.”

“It helped a lot.” She did feel more at ease. “I do value your advice. I don’t suppose you’ve got anymore for me?”

“For now? Just go to sleep. We’re not far off sunrise and it’s another busy day for the Alliance tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this work.


End file.
